


Music Nights At The Pub

by DixieDale



Category: Clan O'Donnell - Fandom, Garrison's Gorillas
Genre: Songfic perhaps depending on your definition
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-25
Updated: 2018-05-25
Packaged: 2019-05-13 08:03:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,942
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14745027
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DixieDale/pseuds/DixieDale
Summary: A series of vignettes centered around the various musical happenings at the pub over a span of time.   Possibly a Spoiler Alert or two.If anachronisms annoy you, better stop right here.  (See Note).  While some of the music referred to would have been around in the 1940's, most is from a much later time.





	Music Nights At The Pub

**Author's Note:**

> Do YOU listen to music when you write, when you read? I often do, but had a friend question 'do you use the music you're listening to for inspiration or does what you're writing about determine the music you play?' Well, I think mostly the latter, since when I read someone else's work, I often mentally fill in music, songs I think fit the storyline. Still, about when I write stories, that took some thought, as sometimes the right song comes almost simultaneously, but often it can take days of searching AFTER I've written something to find the right song for my own personal 'play list' that I listen to when I re-read the stories. For this piece, and a few other stories, I've tried to include some of the songs that fit, to my mind, anyway. My 'soundtrack' might not be yours, of course; certainly feel free to have fun and mentally plug in your own preferences.
> 
> Anachronistic as hell, in most cases, of course; while some of the music would have been around in the 1940's, most is from a much later time. No, audiences in the 1940s would most likely not have liked or accepted any of it, but for the purposes here, well, being the accommodating sort down at the pub, they have a ball! No disrespect is intended for the actual composers, singers or other artists who have done such a fine job with these songs, only sincere admiration and gratitude for the enjoyment they give. Neither Meghada nor I claim to have written any of these, of course. It's fiction - we are all well aware of that.

It was getting to be pretty much of a regular thing. If the guys were down from the Mansion, then, if she wasn't away on one of those trips of hers, the O'Donnell lass would be there too, sitting at their table, joining in on all the laughing and teasing and wild antics. The locals were used to it by now, didn't even think anything of it.

Oh, Doby still made his snide comments, but no one paid much attention to what he said anyway, except for outsiders. The villagers, well, they'd known him either all his life or all of theirs, depending on their age, and knew what they thought of him. He had a bushel of spite on for the girl, and for the men too, and it was just going to spill over; everyone ignored him unless he got too much out of hand, then someone would tap him on the shoulder and suggest he head on home. If he didn't, well, he would end up head first in the water trough out back; it had happened more than once.

What the regular customers really looked forward to, and Lou and Jake, the bartenders as well, right along with Nellie and Josie the barmaids, was when someone teased or coaxed the girl into singing. The little Cockney from up at the Mansion had a real knack for that. Even if she seemed reluctant, maybe a little tired, he could say or do something that would make her sigh and smile and give in. Doby had muttered a nasty comment about that once too, about what else she probably gave in to him on just as easily, and Jake had been the one to pick the pest up by the collar and toss him out the door. No one else had heard, but they all watched and just shrugged, knew Doby, knew Jake must have had his reasons, though the girl had given Jake a knowing look with just a hint of a smile.

She kept a guitar behind the bar, and there was that little piano over in the corner, and when she was in the mood, well, she could really get the place going. She knew a lot of the old songs, most of the newer ones, and a whole bunch the villagers had never heard before.

It went down better, of course, when it was only the locals being there. The soldiers from the Base or from farther away, well, they tended to misunderstand who she was. There'd been a couple of Yank non-coms who'd decided that since she was sitting at that piano singing, that she was part of the paid entertainment, and that 'entertainment' extended over to doing some private entertaining as well and all included in the price of their beer. That had ended up with her cheerfully handing over cash money to cover the breakage of two chairs, some glasses and a pitcher, plus clean-up of the spilt beer. The Major who'd accosted her in the alley when she was helping Lou clean up after a bar fight, well, he ended up in hospital having the doctors pry pieces of broken glass out of his nether regions. Lou didn't dun her for the price of the glasses and pitchers; they'd already been broken in the bar fight between another group, her and the guys from the Mansion, with the locals joining in as the mood struck.

Jake had always thought it was a shame about that group of four soldiers who walked in unobserved that night when Alice Miller had been treating the bar to a round in celebration of her husband's birthday, a real fine example of wrong place, wrong time along with a healthy helping of no common sense. Still, it put a damper on the room, at least for a little while, though everyone got over it pretty quick once the soldiers had been sent on their way.

Alice had been in a fine mood, had announced the O'Donnell girl was going to sing something Alice had gotten the girl to put together, just special for Ben.

"After all these years, it's about time I made sure there's a few things he knows I especially appreciate about him," she'd smiled, practically beaming with amused anticipation. Meghada had stepped forward, planted a kiss on a stunned Ben Miller's cheek, her not being known for being physically affectionate, and said with a grin, "this is from Alice, Ben," settled on a tall stool with her guitar, and the crowd heard music, faintly familiar, and sweet words outlining sixteen reasons why Alice loved Ben so much, the words tailor made for the stocky sandy-haired Welsh-English Constable she'd been married to for some twenty years now. Well, some of the reasons were sweet, some silly, some sly and suggestive, and the crowd clapped in great humor, as after the girl stopped singing, Ben grabbed up Alice and swung her around and gave her a big kiss as he held her up off the floor, feet dangling in midair.

"Maybe I'll do the same favor for YOUR birthday, woman," he mock growled at her.

She cuffed him teasingly on the side of his head, "don't even think on it, husband! Sides, I don't have birthdays anymore, I've told you that for the past five years!" And the crowd roared.

Jake yelled out, "I wouldn't mind her doing one for me!", and to the surprise of the whole crowd, she grinned and said, "you mean, something like this?" and on the spur of the moment delivered a version just for him; it including everything from the way he tied his apron just so over his firm tush, to the way he overpoured when someone was feeling blue, to the way he bounced a drunk with such flair, the way he fed that alley cat on the sly, the way he used a cosh with such aplomb, the way he kept a friendly eye on the ladies to keep them safe, to his pretty brown eyes, and so on, a full sixteen, funny and sweet and sly mixed together.

Well, there was another request from Doc Riley, and she did the same for him, Sheila Riley laughing to beat the band; well, they'd known Meghada all her life, those two, and she knew both of them well enough to do a bang up job of the song.

There were some who blamed Casino for what happened later, but that wouldn't have been fair. All he'd done was what anyone really should have expected him to, which was yell, "hey, Meghada! Bet you can't do one for the little Limey here!"

"Ei, Casino, lay off! No fair picking on me at Ben's party, now!" Goniff complained, turning a little pink. He and the O'Donnell girl were friends, had been from the start; he liked her a lot, in more ways than he'd wanted to let on in the beginning, and they'd been getting a lot closer lately after he'd decided to stop pretending he wouldn't like them to get a lot closer, or as Chief had put it so delicately, 'the woman likes you, Goniff, a lot; stop acting like an idiot', and while with someone else maybe he'd have been more than willing to play along, join in the fun, still he wasn't sure he wanted to hear her make even good-natured fun of him like she had with Jake or Doc Riley.

She hesitated, then smiled a rather odd smile, "and just what do you bet, Casino? Maybe which one of us is picking up the tab for the table tonight?"

"Yeah, babe, you come up with something that fits, really fits, I'll do just that! In fact, let's just order up another pitcher; don't figure I've got anything to worry about," he blustered.

Craig Garrison just sighed, exchanged amused glances with Actor and waited for the fun to begin. If it wasn't Goniff prodding Casino, it was the other way around, hardly anything new. Chief took a look at the uncomfortable pickpocket squirming next to him, leaned over and whispered, "take it easy; give her a chance. She just might surprise you, you know. I think Casino is gonna be coughing up a hell of a chunk of change," getting a skeptical look from the blond Englishman.

"Maybe so, just . . ." not wanting to say that he didn't look forward to sitting here with everyone around hearing her make fun of him in public. He could think of all kinds of things she could use, too, it not occuring to him that she was unlikely to do that, nor that he might be looking at himself just a little more harshly than she did.

"You say 'something that fits', Casino; who's to be the judge of that? You?? I don't think so, not with a bar tab at stake," she said with a grin.

"Naw, we'll let . . ." and he looked around the room, "we'll let Miz Miller and Miz Riley judge, since they've already heard the ones about Ben and Doc and seemed to think you got those right, and Josie maybe cause of Jake."

The three women laughed and agreed and moved forward to sit at the table with the guys, "just so we can check what she's saying, you know, and make sure we do a good job of judging," Alice laughed, smiling over at the blond Englishman. Goniff looked at them a little apprehensively, but then brought his eyes back to the redhead with the guitar.

The room quieted down, and Meghada perched on her stool, and after a moment's thought, began a different version of the song, [obviously, I was listening to Connie Stevens' version of Sixteen Reasons], singing sweetly, directly to the slender Englishman as she had to the other men for their songs, though that little half-smile on her face was somewhat different than what she'd worn for the others, more personal, and if Goniff was blushing before, it was nothing to like when she finished. And the blush was accompanied by a sheepish smile, but one that didn't have anything annoyed or upset about it; in fact, far different.

Casino groaned, "ah, come on, Meghada! You must have money to burn; you didn't even try! How sappy can you get??" scoffing at some of those 'sixteen reasons'. {"Yeah, she loves his - laughing eyes, the way he combs his hair, frecked nose, his voice, crazy clothes, secret sighs, (or was that 'secret side??') and all the rest! give me a frickin' break! And since when are they on snuggling and kissing terms anyway??! And all the rest of that corny stuff, guess she just needed something to fill in that'd rhyme. Well, about as right as the rest, I suppose."}

He turned to the three women seated at their tables, "guess SHE'S picking up the tab tonight, ladies. What'll you have??" he asked expansively with a huge grin.

Alice Miller and Sheila Riley looked at Josie, then at each other and exchanged a smiling nod, "we'll each take a beer, Casino, but it's you who'll be paying," came from Sheila, and from Alice, "it seems to us she's, oh what is that term I've heard? Oh, yes. Seems to us she flat out nailed it in one!" and Casino just gaped at them, took another look at his grinning, pink faced team mate, the Warden and his other team mates all grinning just as wide and laughing, even Chief, and groaned, "oh for Pete's sake. You gotta be kiddin me!".

He appealed to Josie, "come on, Josie, you don't go along with all that crap, do you??! I mean, give me a break!!"

And Josie grinned and took another long measuring look at Goniff, then over at Meghada, seeing just what was in those warm and laughing gold-brown eyes, and winked at her before turning back to answer, "got him down to a T, Casino, though maybe leaving out a few reasons best not said out in public, you know, her being a lady," and Goniff threw back his head and laughed out loud.

"Face it, Casino. Ya either got it or you don't, and looks like I do!"

The room roared with laughter, and a grinning Meghada got up to hand the guitar back to Jake to store safely behind the bar. Ben and AJ went to join their wives at the table, Josie got up to head back to the bar, passing Meghada on the way. They shared a look, one of friendly, comfortable understanding, no hard feelings in either direction, Meghada not even holding it against Josie for calling her a lady, something she'd normally take amiss. But Josie did know she'd miss those occasional visits by the little Englishman; he'd been a lot of fun.

{"Oh, well. Casino can be a lot of fun too, and Chief, he's really such a sweet boy but knows what he's doing, no question. And that song about Jake, well, there's a couple of things I hadn't noticed before; just might consider seeing if he's got the notion sometimes."}

The mood changed when one of the soldiers grabbed Meghada by the waist band as she started to move past, her still laughing back at the look on Casino's face, almost causing her to stumble.

"Not so fast, cutie. Sing it for me; here, you can sit on my lap while you sing," trying to pull her down.

The room went silent except for the man's buddies and their laughter; Garrison's team were on their feet, but not making a move yet. Goniff rasped out a harsh, "let 'er go," and the man laughed, showing he'd had way too much to drink. The others at his table joined in.

Big Mouth snorted, "look, you Limey bastard, she can sing to a ugly little pipsqueak like you, she can sing to me. Won't have to stretch too far to come up with a whole lot better, too. Any problem with that, doll, we can go spend some time in the car, give you the proper inspiration."

His smirk was remarkably nasty, and Meghada found her mind drifting off to a brief contemplation of the sheer tiresomeness of some of the men she kept running into these days. {"Oh, well, they can't ALL be good ones like Ben and AJ, Jake and Lou, Goniff and the guys, I suppose, but do there have to be so many idiots who can't keep their hands to themselves??" } She sighed and brought her attention back to the soldier still tugging forcefully at her waist band. She shook her head more as if in sorrow than anything else.

"Now, what are you going to tell your Sergeant when he asks why you're showing up on sick call in the morning, Corporal? "Sorry, Sarge; came down with a bad case of stupid??'"

That got a puzzled frown, just before it changed to a gasp of agony along with a loud yelp of dismay. He looked down at his hand, somehow now slammed down and pinned to the table by the fork he'd just finished eating that slice of pork pie with; the tines were all the way up to the crossbar, the handle bent over sharply, flat against the back of his hand. She moved briskly away, holding the guitar out to Jake, who took it without a word.

Ben Miller moved forward, "as Constable of this quiet, friendly little village, it's my sad duty to tell you that you have outstayed your welcome; it's time for you men to head on out." They protested, wanting him to arrest the girl for assault. He snorted, watching as Doc Riley was trying to wiggle that fork out of the table, finally freeing the man's bleeding and bruised hand, pulling the fork out briskly and dropping it on the table, ignoring the indignant yelp he got, and using a handkerchief to wrap around the wound.

"We don't arrest women for dealing firmly with those who get above themselves. And, just a word to the wise, Yanks? Calling someone a 'Limey bastard' here in these parts, well, you might want to rethink that; might lead you into real trouble next time, you know."

Big Mouth motioned over to Casino, starting, "But HE . . ." but never completing his retort, Ben telling him sternly, "THAT's different; they're friends. They can say anything they like to each other! And often do! You're a stranger; you need to watch your mouth!"

The men started to make more of a scene, but the intervention of a pissed off Lieutenant Garrison settled them down. He made no bones about how he viewed their behavior, and about his orders for them to get back to Base now, before they ended up behind bars or worse.

Sullenly they left, only to regale their barracks mates with the story, expecting sympathy, expecting to get up a crew to 'go down to that shithole of a village and show them what's what!'. Instead they got slapped upside the head by the barracks chief, were told by the rest of the men in the barracks that 'unlike you guys, WE aren't fuckin stupid!', heard some stories that made them cringe, were given some sound advice.

"The word the people down there use for the O'Donnell woman is 'peppery'. We have others, a whole slew of them!"

And the men lounging around shouted out a few, some laughing as they did so. They were varied, inventive, frequently profane, but they all gave the same general idea - hands off, approach at your own risk, and make sure your insurance premiums are paid up!

"You were lucky; one of the ambulance drivers even has a pool going about who and how many she'll send back with him next time, and how bad it's gonna be. He's gonna retire rich by the time the war's over! Olberman over in Barracks 47, he's still seeing double from that beer bottle she took up against his thick skull. There's a Major over in B wing of the hospital you can ask; she sent him back in an ambulance with enough broken glass in his butt to fill a shoe-box! Guy's outta commission for some time; word is, he tries something with her again, it'll be his equipment gets the next load, maybe the whole set even coming back in that same shoe box, and I wouldn't doubt it for one minute. One real idiot thought he'd 'tame' her with a pair of handcuffs, thought she'd 'like it' once she got a good sample; said he thought he was doing her a freakin favor!; heard doctors had one hell of a time prying em out, though they didn't say which end they were doing the prying on! And she promises the same if anyone trys anything outta line with any of the other women over there. And, just for the record, messing with Garrison's guys? Not too bright either; have commando training and a whole lot more, they're cons you know, the whole damned lot of them. And the commando stuff, well Garrison's included and he don't just stand back and watch either. And you don't take on just one; you piss off one a them, you got them ALL on your back, and if SHE's there, hell, she lines up right alongside them. Man, fork through the hand, pinning you to the table? She coulda put that fork somewhere else, you know, pinned THAT down too; heard she's done that before, once with a frickin pitchfork! Kyle over there, he can tell you about that Corporal Samson! Almost knackered him, she did. We could tell you a whole shitload of stories about her! Yeah, I'd say you came out lucky!"

And, after all that, they were inclined to believe it, about them being lucky, but they were skeptical about that pitchfork business. Well, then they listened to Kyle tell his story, talked to one of the nurses about that Major in B wing and just 'HOW many stitches in his ass???!' and scratched Brandonshire off their list of places to visit on their free nights. No sense buying trouble.

After the men left, Meghada came back to the table, Jake bringing her a double shot of bourbon. She raised one eyebrow and he shrugged, "so it's not the best, but it's the best we've got, and you earned it tonight, lass. I'll even take care of the tab for that fork you ruined!" And that sent the whole table into a round of laughter, just to go with that next round of drinks. And if the look Goniff was giving her was any indication, Jake wasn't the only one pleased with her performance tonight.

"'Ow'd you come up with of all those reasons for me just off the top of your 'ead like that, 'Gaida? Don't seem like it'd be easy. They were all real nice too, though maybe a stretch," Goniff was sprawled in one of the big arm chairs, sipping a glass of whiskey, watching her sort through some of her sheet music.

She smiled over, relishing the sight of him, "was easy, though, and no stretch at all . And those are just some of the reasons, you know." The smile faded and her face was serious now, "but those aren't the why."

He cocked his head to one side, having just enough whiskey in him to ask, "then what is?" that being something he'd wondered about more than once. Oh, he pretty much knew the why's for him, but that was easy; but for her? That he just didn't understand; if anyone was aware of their own shortcomings it was him. She got up and perched on the arm of the chair, reaching out her hand to push that one strand of hair back off his forehead, then to lightly touch him at the center of his chest.

"Your essence, who you really are beneath all the masks, it speaks to me, and that which is mine own essence, it hears and smiles and answers back."

He didn't say anything for a moment, clearly thinking about what she'd said. Then, with some hesitation, "that's a Clan thing, right?" She gave a tiny smile and nodded, and he sighed in relief, "then it's okay that I don't understand; couldn't be expected to, now could I?"

And she laughed softly and said, "it's fine if you don't understand it, laddie. Some things don't need understanding, just accepting as being true." And he reached up to pull her down into the chair with him, and they spent some time with some of that snuggling and kissing and such that Casino was in such disbelief of, even perhaps in some of those things she'd not included in her song, as Josie had pointed out.

***

There'd been a couple, three times when one or more of her sisters or brothers showed up, and it seems being musical ran in the family. Oh, they said she was the only one who wrote much, but they sure could all sing. And sometimes, it got really pretty, and sometimes kinda funny with them taking to singing some of the ones that called for a man's voice or for a duet, ones they'd never heard, and some of them were sweet, some funny, and some of them, well, they raised eyebrows around the room. They never sang those if there were guys from the Base there, which was probably a good thing.

That little number she and her sister Ciena sang with brother Ian, well, that was a case in question. [It seemed to me like the siblings would like to get a little rowdy now and again, and I pulled out a few of my favorite cd's to listen to as I wrote. Here, I was listening to 'I Love You By Heart', Sylvia and Michael Johnston's excellent duet rocking the walls) was more than a little outspoken, and Jake had glanced over to see if Josie and Nellie were upset, and while they both had funny kinds of soft smiles on their faces, they weren't upset that he could see. In fact, Josie was looking at him and her eyes were warm and soft, and he remembered last night and found himself smiling back before he remembered he'd told himself he wouldn't do that in public.

And there'd been that time with that Miss Richards, the Major's sister. She'd been coming down sometimes, a few times with some fancy dressing toff, him acting all superior and amused at his surroundings and the villagers. Then, they'd showed up, and Jake got a feeling something was going on, cause the woman had looked around, her eyes searching out the O'Donnell women, and they had nodded at each other, and after the singing had got going, sometimes Meghada, sometimes Ciena or Michael, Miss Richards asked that they sing that song about "a man of such taste and distinction", had smiled at her companion sweetly and said, right out where every one could hear, "this is special, just for you, Allen," and he'd puffed himself up with a smug smile.

Meghada had the guitar and the background, Michael tapping out the beat and filling in on that piano and joining in on the background and Ciena had stood there, face as expressive as hell, gestures just right, and they had done something a trifle direct, (I was listening to 'A Legend in Your Own Mind,' again Sylvia snarking out the words) and the toff had a few words with Miss Richards, who threw a drink in his face, and he stormed out. Miss Richards hitched a ride back to London with the O'Donnell siblings, but she didn't seem any too sorry about sending the toff on his way, not from that grin on her face when that round of applause filled the pub.

And no one who was there the night all four of the sisters walked in with Ian and brother Michael would ever forget the music. It was Wednesday, slowest night and hardly anyone was there except Old Howie, but before long the music streaming out into the night had starting bringing people in, and soon it was as crowded as a Saturday night! Loud, heavy beat, and who knew the brothers could play the fiddle like that! A whole stream of things, more than a little bold, (I was letting - 'That's What You Do When You're In Love' - Forester Sisters up the pace a bit here) started it all off and set the mood. Jake took a fast look over at the table where the team was sharing a pitcher of beer, wondering if Goniff had really messed up, the song being about a man cheating on his woman cause of getting drunk, but her forgiving him, but there wasn't anything in his face to indicate that might be the case. Anyhow, didn't seem like the kind of thing Meghada would want to rub his nose in, not in public. Well, she sang lots of songs, and not all of them were personal, and Jake had to admit the song had one heck of a beat.

There was one after that even more raucous and even more blunt, and that one hadn't seemed to make the Englishman nervous at all, and you'd have thought it would. Old Howie broke up the place with his considered comment, "ain't exactly 'Annie Laurie', but have to say I like it!" Now the next one, yeah, the young woman had grinned over at Goniff, the little blond was blushing, and (I was listening to, what else - 'Mama's Never Seen Those Eyes' - Forester Sisters) had some friskiness it in and the look the pickpocket was getting from Meghada were a little frisky too, Jake thought.

The brothers doing something they said was Cajun, whatever that meant, had been real lively and showed their fiddle work off just fine; one about a pair of bluejeans had Meghada blushing as Goniff pulled her down onto his lap and slid his hands where he probably shouldn't have, not in public. Still, Jake could see she wasn't mad, not at all. And he couldn't really blame Goniff either; those pants fit her real fine! Course, everyone in the room knew if they tried it, she'd leave them sprawled in the sawdust!

When the guys started something really wild (I was listening to Mel McDaniel let loose in 'Let It Roll',) well, the O'Donnell girls started dancing with each other, well, sort of with each other, IF you called it dancing, and mouths dropped and the little Englishman just roared, jumped up and grabbed the O'Donnell girl out of the mix, and the two of them took off, it was like they'd done it a thousand times, every move just right. Jake had never seen those kinds of moves anywhere before and doubted he ever would again. SHIT!!

When things settled back down, Patrick started something that sounded like more like a bunch of fast talking than singing and seemed to be something about a church and a squirrel, though Jake thought that just couldn't be right! (Thank you, Ray Stevens!) He was relieved to see that no one was laughing harder than the Reverend Daniel Standish, who actually seemed to be having trouble catching his breath!

A duet came next, if Jake heard it right, something called (was listening to Loretta Lynn and Teddy Wilburn doing - 'Sweet Thang'; laws, that's been a favorite for years; like it much better than the version she did with Ernest Tubb), and again the crowd roared, the song suiting Meghada to a tee.

Now, that night when Alice Miller came in all tight lipped, glaring at Ben, and Sheila Riley hadn't seemed any too thrilled with Doc Riley either, they'd had a word or two with the sisters, very pointedly took seats together at a table for two, leaving their rather sheepish men to find their own places, and the whole place was stunned, then roaring with the O'Donnell sisters' disgusted rendition of 'Men!' (and of course I was listening to the Forster Sisters again! And still can't think of another song that would fit better!) their brothers backing them up on piano and guitar. No one was quite sure what Ben or AJ had done to so annoy their wives, but wow, what a show!!! And of course, Goniff, who'd been laughing himself almost into exhaustion, had to say, as they repeated that final chorus about 'can't beat em up cause they're bigger than you, can't live with em, just can't shoot em', "well, cept if you're an O'Donnell, then you 'ave a 'ell of a lot more options!" and their table roared and Casino almost fell off his chair! Well, by the end of the evening, Alice was snuggling next to a repentent Ben Miller; Sheila and the doc had already headed home for some 'making-up' time. 

***  
They'd been gone far too long, the con dangerous and complex, and she'd been warned there'd be no word back, no information available til they got back. Two full months with no word, not even from her most reliable sources. She could feel that he was still alive, but there was no way to tell if things were going according to plan and him still right in there with the guys, lending help and support to Garrison who was impersonating that turncoat American industrialist, or languishing in some dulag undergoing who knows what. She waited, depending on Kevin Richards' promise to let her know as soon as he knew something, anything; depending on her own contacts, both here and in Italy, to do the same.

Well, the job was done, they were home, all of them, thanks to the intervention of Ainsley's team and that last ditch desperate move to free Chief and Casino from a certain death in a Gestapo hellhole, but only after Garrison's men had pulled HIM out of the hands of some Gestapo Major, but they'd paid a price, a heavy one though she'd not been given any details, but the looks in their eyes and on their faces told her enough, Craig Garrison looking particularly haunted, and they'd come far too close to not making it back at all this time.

And she'd paid a price too, so much so that when she was at the pub during their absence and people asking her to sing, she'd gradually gotten to where she simply couldn't for her throat being so tight, and would have stopped going entirely if it weren't for the Millers and Rileys and a couple of others who refused to let her sit at home hyperventilating.

Part of it was that, while anyone would have worried about them, she'd been in the field doing what they were doing, she knew the risks, the dangers, all that could occur, and could visualize it all too clearly. Even now that they were back, her head still ached, right along with her heart, her throat still tight from the tension and those private midnight tears, along with the newer tears of relief, {"and to think the Dragon would turn into such a watering pot!"} and she tended to be less able to be that smiling lass they'd come to expect, less able to sing the sillier songs that they often asked for.

Tonight, well, tonight was Friday night and many of the women of the town, Alice Miller, Sheila Riley, Mrs.Wilson and others were there, along with sisters Caeide and Ciena and Coura, with brothers Michael and Ian as well, and there had been requests for some of the love songs of the day, 'My Devotion', 'Don't Sit Under the Apple Tree', 'Again', 'It Only Happens', and several others of that sort. Some were silly, some earnest, some wildly romantic and others smoothly innocuous.

The family had all joined in, and did outstanding harmony and everyone seemed to enjoy that, though Garrison's table was certainly more restrained than usual. She'd managed each of those songs, though with some difficulty, but a creditable performance, no one seeming to notice anything out of place.

Finally, Major Kevin Richards, here for a briefing and having been invited along for a drink, asked the wrong question. He'd been a little annoyed with her for arguing with him on some matter of Clan versus Outlander wisdom, him citing the dubious wisdom of her own actions and determinations lately, and he was perhaps inclined to be a little snippy, inclined to perhaps put her on the spot to get back a little of his own after her sharp come-back, including a remarkably blunt, "and did you ever consider just minding your own fucking business, MAJOR??!"

He drawled out during a pause in the singing, "those are all popular ones, certainly, but all ones I've heard before in London. Meghada, don't you any new ones on the ever intriguing subject of love? You usually have a unique approach, a different view of most subjects, it seems. Or is that one subject you're not such an expert in, one that gives you a little trouble figuring out the smart thing to do?"

His voice was a little mocking, his tone more than a little smug and taunting. He'd probably had one, maybe two drinks more than he should have, having given himself that luxury since he'd be spending the night in a room above the pub instead of heading back to London right away; that bruised look in her eyes she'd been wearing for some time now should have warned him off, but it didn't; certainly the glare he'd received from brothers Michael and Ian should have told him how foolish this was. The sisters had just exchanged a grim look and shook their heads at him in disgust.

The question had been asked, though, and when the others in the room, at the table urged her on, she nodded, but with no smile, gave in, picked up her guitar, moved to sit at the piano where she could use either as needed. She started talking, not singing, quietly, softly enough they almost had to strain to hear; it was almost as if she was talking to herself as much as to those in the room, slightly detached from the reality of where she was. Richards was starting to get a very uncomfortable feeling about this, and really wished he'd restrained his anger.

"Love. A simple word that has so many sides, means so many different things to different people. Sisterly love, brotherly love, well, the song of 'Anathea' speaks to that, though a very difficult song, surely, harsh and discordant, in keeping with the story. It's a very old one, certainly not of my writing." And they had to agree, the story of a sister sacrificing herself to save her brother from execution, only to find her sacrifice had been in vain fit well that uncomfortable music from her guitar.

"A mother's love for her child, well, that comes in so many forms. This one too is from another hand, though not nearly so old as that first one. My mother's sister wrote this one, after the birth of my cousin Maeve, before her own death shortly thereafter." She drifted her fingers over the keys of the piano, singing sweetly, wistfully, the song telling of the loss of one dearer than life itself, and almost simultaneously, the wonder at the realization that there would be a child, the growing anticipation, and the joy of holding that child, the result of their love, in her arms. Then the pain mixed with acceptance of knowing she'd not live to rear that child, but then joy again, at the setting of that beloved child into the eager and welcoming arms of her own beloved sister, knowing the love would be there for both of them as well. Finally the leaving on the Long Road, eagerly anticipating meeting with him who had gone before, anticipating the joy of that, the sharing of their love once again and her sharing with him the news of the new life they had together caused to come into the world.

"There are songs of love betrayed, and sometimes love fulfilled but cut short but always remembered. But the love of brothers fighting side by side against a common foe, that is not spoken of too often, maybe not often enough, but perhaps this might suit, if my own brothers are willing to help me with this one."

Michael and Ian had their own guitars with them, and just a word told them which song she had in mind, and both men took a fast look back at Garrison and his men and nodded back to her. And as they sang the song, (and what else could I have I been listening to except 'It's Probably Me', with Eric Clapton; never got that out of my head after I heard it years ago), her eyes went from one to another of the team, and they looked at each other and swallowed, it saying things they'd probably never think of saying out loud, but knew damn well were true. Each had memories surge back, times when . . .

Garrison had actually felt the hair prickle on his head, thinking {"how does she do that, get it so right?"}. Perhaps she'd had one drink more than she should have, herself, for there was far more laying open to view than she was accustomed to showing.

"But the kind of love spoken of in those first songs, I guess that's what most would think of, maybe. This one I heard not so very long ago," and the gentle words ("Anything Love Can Buy", the sweetest harmonizing by the New Christy Minstrels made this an old favorite) put a smile on everyone's face, all the siblings joining in together in a rather remarkable harmony.

"But sometimes . . ." and she stopped as if she could not go on, shaking her head as if in denial, face contorted almost in pain. She reached out for the piano once again, (while there are many versions, the most poignant for this venue, the one I had on the player was 'All Alone Am I', the Alison Krauss version) came first, the subtle, aching, almost non-existent accompaniment from the piano, seemed to weep into an empty void, and Nellie found herself thinking of her soldier husband, away for so long now, and leaned into Josie's understanding arms, letting the tears form in her eyes.

Next, (think - 'Together Again,' I think I liked the old, old version by Bonnie Guitar better than any others, but don't have a current recording) , her first shuddering feelings of overwhelming relief at his return captured therein.

And finally, the one that fell into a pool of utter silence, (after weeding through other versions, ended up with my true favorite, listening to Linda Ronstadt singing - 'Will You Lay With Me In a Field of Stone', - of course, that leading to a pause in the writing while I took a couple of nights to just listen to a heck of a lot more of her songs, that remarkably talented lady) seemingly as if a lover was asking about the depth of her committment, her devotion, her eyes giving the constant, unmistakable answer, 'yes, always'. Her siblings joined in at the last, turning the song into a complicated round, words gradually getting softer, dying away.

She sat the guitar to one side and came back to sit at their table, taking a sip from the full shot glass in front of her, then tilted the glass quickly, taking the remainder in a quick swallow, started to stretch out her hand for the bottle. Kevin Richards quietly reached out, pulled the bottle of bourbon from in front of her, put the top back on and sat it out of her reach. And the conversation gradually started back up in the room, quietly as if trying not to disturb those last lingering, haunting notes.

Major Richards looked at her face, every emotion she'd put into those words and music visible for all to see, sighed and offered the only words he could, "I'm sorry", not even knowing whether she was capable of hearing him right now.

He said in a very low voice to Craig Garrison, "remind me not to do something like that again without gauging her mood far better than I did tonight," and Garrison just have a brief wry smile, "yeah, I'll do that. It was . . . disturbing. Her uncle says she's highly talented, maybe even a bit of a genius where music is concerned, and I'm not sure he's wrong, but still, sometimes it's uncomfortable just how much she sees, how deep she can reach to bring things into the light."

She wasn't in her seat, not anymore, but was standing, being held close by the slender blond Englishman of their team, held close and being gently rocked back and forth, him whispering softly in her ear, her nodding just a little in response. And the conversation went on around them, like water flowing around an island in the middle of a river, til she had recovered enough to look around and realize where she was, in more ways than one. She seemed embarrassed, wondering if she should apologize for something, in some way, but no one seemed to expect that, not here. The one holding her dropped a final soft kiss on her hair, and she slid down into her own chair, and gradually re-entered the conversation, but still much quieter than usual, and the conversation around her was quieter as well.

Healing would come to all of them in time, but for now, the pain was still there, too fresh to be a comfortable companion. But somehow, having that pain expressed out loud, even if not by the men themselves, it helped, seemed to lance it, give it a pathway to cleanse itself. Garrison thought he might just be able to sleep tonight, and he prayed it would be so. If so, he knew who he should thank, though he probably never would. Some things were just too hard to say. He had a feeling she wouldn't mind, that she'd understand.

***

Old Howie had started it, getting to reminiscing about things in general, as he was wont to do after a couple of extra beers, always with the theme of how much better things used to be, but tonight lamenting the disappearance of bawdy songs he'd once heard commonly sung in the pubs but not anymore.

"Whole world's getting just too bloody refined, if you ask me! Can't even sing a good old bawdry without someone taking offense." He turned to the young woman sitting at the piano, "now I ask you, miss; anything wrong with a bit of touch and tickle in the merriment?"

She laughed out loud; Old Howie was a favorite of hers, much on the same scale as that pest Dobie wasn't! "No, Howie, I've heard more than my share of them, sung my share, and even written some verses in my time."

That got Casino's attention, "yeah, you've written some dirty songs, right. What, used the word 'snuggle', maybe?", bringing up that song that caused him to end up picking up the tab for a shitload of beer; he was still a little pissed at that, still couldn't believe those three women had declared her the winner of that bet. "That qualify in your book?"

She grinned at him, teasing Casino being a fun activity, one she and Goniff shared in frequently, "actually, me and two of my older brothers got caught up in a contest one summer, and had us a fine time with composing new verses to a very old song, primarily to tease my older sister. One of them even spawned a whole new song, with lots of verses, and none of them any too polite!"

The safecracker snorted in disbelief, "yeah, like I believe that! Yeah, you do some good stuff, but that kinda thing??! Prove it!"

She took a look around the pub, looking to see if there were any outsiders, which there weren't, or even that pesky Doby, but he was also absent. She'd not drift into this area around either of those, certainly, but among the regulars, among friends, it just might be fun!

"Any objections?" she asked, only to get wide-spread encouragement. She cocked a brow at Nellie who was working the bar and got a grin in return, "none from me, girl. I've heard most of them, and it was the rare one that shocked me!"

And so she went to get her guitar from behind the bar, gave a grin at Casino sitting there with his teammates, and started in on the song of the brown-eyed laddie from the town, who was much admired and much sought after for various reasons. She left out the sad parts, the sad ending, of course, and substituted a slightly different chorus, full of sly merriment; this wasn't the time for sadness. But the introduction, yes, that was included, two of the more innocuous verses as a tease, seeing Casino scoff and whisper to Chief, probably telling him how this hardly qualified, that if this was what she considered a dirty song, well.

Well, the next verse telling of the offer from the High Lord for the brown eyed laddie's favors had raised some eyebrows, but it wasn't blatant and could have had a more innocent meaning, that is, if you wanted to blind yourself to the truth of it. She could see the uncertainty on Casino's face, wondering just how she'd meant those words.

Then she eased into those verses she and Michael and Patrick had penned that summer after their sister Caeide had come back from London, back from studying with Peter Newkirk, and she had the utter joy of seeing Casino's face show first his stunned disbelief when she started with the one about the high-born lady and her ever-so-troublesome chastity belt she needed the brown-eyed laddie's assistance with and how he'd solved the problem to her utter and complete satisfaction, and his too; then his utter incredulous enjoyment of the rest of those totally ribald verses. When she added one about when the lady's knight returned home, and how hearing her glowing reviews, had some interesting requests and suggestions of his own, he almost choked on his beer.

Once she'd finished, she told of them of being told they weren't to be singing the verses to just anyone anymore, and why, and Goniff was laughing up a storm, "your cousin actually sang all that to your grandmum???"

She laughed right back at him, "aye, and while she was appreciative of the musical value of the verses and our obvious talent in writing them, even winked and said she had quite a bit of appreciation for the obvious talents of that particular brown-eyed laddie as well, still, having my six-year old cousin sing it to her as she was drifting off to sleep was slightly disturbing!"

The whole place roared, her along with them.

"You said there was another song," Chief asked, and she was a little surprised. He was a bit shy, a bit reserved, though he wouldn't have appreciated that description; he wasn't the one she'd have thought would have ventured in that direction. Well, maybe Goniff wasn't the only one letting some of the masks fall to the wayside.

"Yes, well, a couple of the verses my brother entered into the contest played to the description of the brown-eyed laddie as being quite a good magician. Those verses described a man of religion hiring the magician to cause turmoil at a rival religion's gathering by majicking away their clothing. Here, I'll sing it to you," and she did. She thought Garrison might just choke on his beer at those verses.

"And while we disqualified those in the contest, not for lack of merit, mind you, but for them being far more involved in the shifting morality of the attendees depending on the presence or absence of their clothing than it did the brown eyed laddie, which was the whole purpose of the contest. Not to mention, of course, the morality of the two religious leaders, at such odds with each other and ending up, well, rather 'attached' to each other, as did some of the congregation," giving a totally wicked leer and the crowd roared. Yes, 'attached' was the word!

"However, those verses did spawn a new song. That one grew to contain many verses, and detailed the adventures of a traveling magician, spreading mischief and confusion wherever he went."

The room loudly demanded a rendition, and she delivered exactly what they were asking for. Casino had been pounding on the table, red faced and laughing, she was pleased to note. Actor just seemed appalled at the unseemly crowd he'd ended up in, though she wondered just how much of that was real; there was a very real twinkle in the tall Italian's eyes.

"And my older sister taught me a variation of "The Twelve Days of Christmas" as taught to her by one of her mentors."

And the singing had to stop briefly while Garrison and Actor choked on their beer, almost simultaneously. Well, those lords and ladies and maids and pipers and drummers and all, they had been rather busy, and with such energy and inventiveness, too. And the livestock had some interesting moments as well! At one point, Actor had whispered to Garrison, "rather like Leda and her swan!" and at another, Garrison had whispered back, "sounds like something I saw up at the Everings," and Actor laughed heartily, remembering those descriptions from both Garrison and Kevin Richards of those jaw-dropping house parties. She had to sing it again, and this time the whole pub joined in the chorus and probably could have been heard all the way up at the Mansion, it got so loud and rowdy.

Later, she answered requests, and it was more than a little disconcerting to Casino and Garrison that there weren't any requested that she couldn't sing and play. Garrison was pretty sure he'd never been this red-faced, and Casino, well, he was just totally put out at losing another bet with her, though this one not so costly; however, no one could claim he wasn't also thoroughly entertained.

Chief had settled back with his glass of beer, trying to pretend he wasn't there, though his eyes indicated he was enjoying this immensely, and Goniff? He'd laughed himself silly, wiping the tears from his eyes, not only at the picture of her singing all that, but at the reaction from his team mates. {"Keep underestimating 'er, they do! There's no one like my 'Gaida, no one!"} and he led the hearty round of applause from the other paying customers, Old Howie chief among them. This was truly a night many would never forget!

Later, in the privacy of the Cottage, "ei, 'Gaida, just w'at was it that magician got up to with that Mayor's wife, again?" and she proceeded to demonstrate, much to his total appreciation and hers as well. That brown eyed laddie had nothing on her blue eyed one, nothing at all, as far as she was concerned.

And if that little tale led to a rather interesting moment when Major Richards walked in on them in Meghada's kitchen, well, that was a story in and of itself.


End file.
